


Snakes and Ladders

by somnolentblue



Category: Alice (2009)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 19:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnolentblue/pseuds/somnolentblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five conversations that changed Hatter's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snakes and Ladders

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Framlingem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Framlingem/gifts).



> Many thanks to scintilla10 and too_rational for cheerleading and betaing!

**Hide and Seek**

David leaned against the tree's trunk, closing his eyes but keeping an ear out for his pursuers. It was unlikely they'd find him – people never looked up, which is why he always hid amongst the branches of the tallest trees he could find. This one still had leaves, making it even better camouflage. Okay, the leaves meant that he couldn't kick his dangling feet like he usually did, but they also let him continue his uninterrupted streak of being king and champion at hide and seek.

He had just dozed off when a hand clasped his ankle and sent him flailing and tumbling out of the tree. He landed on his back and stared up, his breath knocked out, as a gangly kid dropped down from the tree and then offered him a hand up.

"That was dumb," the kid said. "You should never fall asleep when you're being hunted. You must always remain vigilant and be attentive to your surroundings or they'll capture you and kill you."

"Who's they?" David asked, curious about this stranger with big green eyes and straw in his hair.

"The Resistance." The boy looked at David as if he doubted his intelligence. "They want to kill everyone loyal to the Queen, but we're going to kill them all first."

"Who are you?" David asked, wondering at a boy who could make such a statement so matter-of-factly.

The boy shrugged. "Marchamont, Hare-in-training. Your parents asked my parents to send me to find you because you're late."

He stared for a minute, shocked at actually meeting a Hare. They were elusive, serving only the Queen and their own whims, and they brought luck with them. Then the second part of the boy's – Marchamont's – statement registered, and he abruptly remembered that he was expected to attend Frederick's coronation as Jack tonight. He took off at a flat run, leaving the boy behind him.

 **Monopoly**

Hatter gave a quick knock on the open door and entered his father's study. His desk was, as always, piled with tedious reports about chemical disposal and safety plans and triple-redundancy back-up safety plans. After the appointment of a new Carpenter and the subsequent sabotages of the old Carpenter, safety had become the incredibly repetitious by-word of the day, and Hatter was going to scream if he had to listen to one more lecture about things exploding, imploding, or otherwise causing booms.

His father looked up and acknowledged him. "David."

"Hatter, pater o' mine, it's Hatter now." He swept his hat off of his head with a flourish, bowed deeply, and then flipped it into the air to buy himself a few more seconds for that wee little bit of chemical assistance he'd taken half an hour ago to take effect.

"Right, Hatter," his father said. "To what do I owe the momentous occasion of your visit to my study, the home of all things dull and tedious? Is this about your madcap scheme?"

"Why, Father, I am hurt that you would categorize my well-thought-out plan thusly." Hatter plopped down in the chair in front of the desk and then hastily sat up primly. "It's a plan of pure brilliancy and insight, one that will bring brightness and joy to people's lives!"

"Son, it's a plan to move out into the City, escape the consequences of sleeping with half the courtiers and three-quarters of their daughters, evade the most irate Lord Ace, and continue your association with hooligans and ne'er-well-to-do'ers. Somehow I fail to see the philanthropy inherent in this course of action."

"I am wounded that you would ascribe such devious and underhanded goals to my ideas! I simply see a golden opportunity for the Hearts to expand the tea market. Give the people a local place to buy and they'll come; you know that most of them will never come out to the Casino themselves! The Resistance has them convinced that it's full of debauchery and jabberwocks! If I could just go out, show them that we're just like them, they'll jump at the chance to be just like us! Furthermore, Marchamont tells me that production has recently increased, so I would be providing a valuable outlet for the extra stock without risking inflation. I want to serve my Queen and support the Hearts, Father, but my talents are ill-suited for the court.

"I just need a bit of parental support in the form of smoothing the way to present my proposal to Their Majesties."

His father put down his pen, pinched the bridge of his nose (sometimes Hatter wondered if there were permanent indentations there, formed by his father's fingers, one frustrated moment at a time), and then looked back up at Hatter.

"You know it's not that easy. I'm only a Five of Clubs, and since your mother lost her head I've been under suspicion and scrutiny. I might be able to talk to the King, but there's no guarantee that he'll pursue the idea with the Queen. As much upheaval as the Pal– Casino has undergone lately, it's unlikely that you'd have an answer before the year is out. Are you really that committed to this? Will you still want to do it after I've laid my reputation on the block for you?"

Hatter opened his eyes wide and radiated Sincerity. "Yes."

The clock ticked as he waited for his father's verdict, visions of that perfect little shop dancing in his head. A shower of kumquats upon March for tipping him off to its existence. It even had transdimensional storage, so the unsavoury sorts who thought unlicensed thievery was a viable career path would be foiled, and the previous owner had left the inner gardens in decent condition. (Hatter didn't understand why someone would bugger off and leave quite delightful lilies in prime condition behind, but people were strange.)

 **Clue**

Hatter surveyed the new teas, his hand hovering over the lovely turquoises and lavenders and crimsons. He made a decision and grabbed the sunshine yellow decanter of Giddiness and turned back around to his customer.

"This," he said, "is the perfectly delectable, absolutely scrumptious, completely wondrous delight known as Giddiness. Or, as I like to call it, Dancing On Air. One smidgeon of this – not a drop, not a dollop, a smidgeon exactly, measured out by my most fabulous assistant in the front room – will guarantee that all of your woes and worries will disappear into a sea of happiness. Does that mesh with your desires, m'lady?"

"Oh, it would be perfect. How much does it cost?"

He considered her for a moment, taking in her expertly patched dress, dreadfully practical shoes, and serviceably boring hat. "For you, my lovely lass, this one time, one smidgeon is free of charge. But! Next time it will be full price, no dickering, haggling, or bargaining allowed. Are these terms acceptable, m'lady?"

"I am willing to abide by those terms," she said, holding her hand out to seal the bargain. Instead of shaking it, he bowed down and caressed it with his lips, making her giggle and blush. She left for the front room, and he felt confident that he'd just secured another lifetime customer.

Half an hour later, his new employee burst through his office door. "Hatter, Hatter," Dormouse said, "she won't stop laughing!"

He dropped his pen on top of his account books and rushed out to the public room. The woman from earlier was floating near the ceiling, giggling and drifting about. "Ravenshit," he said. What was he supposed to do about this bit of headless fuck-up? People sometimes went funny, but he'd never seen or heard of this before.

"Dormouse, go get March, we've got to get her out of here."

Dormouse froze and looked at him with wide eyes. "You want me to get _March Hare_? He eats babies for breakfast! I would just be a bite-sized snack to him!"

"Don't be ridiculous, March'll know what to do. Go!"

Dormouse went, and Hatter shook his head. The employment application had cleared the Spades, obviously, but sometimes he wondered why someone so damned timid wanted to work at the Tea House. They didn't get many violent customers, but he had been forced to replace the furniture a few times after forbidding certain recalcitrant customers to add more to their tab, and sometimes bidding got excessively enthusiastic. March visited upon occasion to remind people that Hatter enjoyed protection and provided a royal service, but he couldn't be there all the time.

Hatter cleared the public room by promising vouchers for future indulgences while waiting for March and his team to appear. He'd clear out some old stock to make room for the new lines, so it wouldn't be too much of a loss. Some of the teas were going to degrade in the next few weeks, anyway, and it was better to have them join the economy instead of rotting in the lake.

A few hours later March let himself in, followed by two Ten-ranked flunkies. "Well, Hatter, what an interesting situation you've found yourself in," he said.

"Hello to you, too, March," Hatter retorted. "Can you get her out of here? Is there a treatment center or something?"

"What did she take?" March asked.

"One of the news ones, Giddiness. It's her first time, too, no idea why she reacted so badly."

"Mmmm. Giddiness is still a bit experimental. I think we'll have to inquire further. Her first time, you said – for _any_ tea?"

"Nary a drop nor a dribble had passed her lips before, or so she told me, and her blushing virgin routine certainly seemed to corroborate her story. Why, does that change things?"

March contemplated her while his flunkies lassoed her ankles and got her down. She continued to giggle, complaining that the rope itched in between chortles. "Yes, yes it will," he answered. "It will change it quite a lot."

Two months later, she wandered in again, shaking and desperate for some Calm and some Purity. She didn't remember him, had just been told that the Tea House was the place to go.

Dormouse offered to pick the glass out after Hatter crushed the empty vial of Calm in his hand.

 **Mouse Trap**

Hatter stared at the headless body in front of the groundside Library entrance.

"What," he said, dumb with shock. He hadn't known that anyone _could_ take out March, and if he, she, or it was still around and bloodthirsty Hatter didn't like his own chances.

"Oh, yes, they forgot to take out the trash," Dodo drawled beside him. "It finally worked."

"What worked?"

"You didn't _really_ think that we _trust_ you, you ridiculous boy? You're the son of a Nine and the best friend of a Hare. Pardon me–" he nudged the body with his foot "–a former Hare. However, as bait you've been most invaluable."

"But I got you food and supplies! Medicines and bandages, confits and refugees!" Hatter's mind raced. If bait was all he was – all this was – then he was dead unless he could convince Dodo of his loyalty and worth. This had to be a test; Dormouse's quiet avowals that he was in the Resistance's good graces and doing the right thing were obviously exaggerations or outright lies. That little rodent knew everything about the Tea House and could take it over without a murmur or a bobble, which meant that Hatter had abruptly gone from valuable ally to dangerous liability.

"Oh, yes, so very many refugees. More mouths to feed and addicts to treat, thanks ever so much for your generous contributions.

"Are you mourning this creature? He was a murderer and assassin, a disposer of bodies and destroyer of minds."

Hatter pulled himself together, lest he join March in the morgue. Right, he could do this. He'd delicately danced with the Hearts while feeding the Resistance, he'd run with Hares and Rabbits and Suits, and he'd bought and sold the worth of Wonderland ten times over; he could survive being bereft of support from all sides.

"You are absolutely, completely, one hundred percent correct," Hatter said, calling upon the memory of Sincerity to strengthen his words. "I'm glad that I could be of service in this instance."

Dodo smiled at him, and Hatter hid a shiver, baring his teeth in return. "I'm glad that you see the utility of our actions. I'll be in touch about your next task. The code word is thimble."

 **Truth or Dare**

Hatter paced around the park and waited for Alice, his mind turning over what Dormouse had told him yesterday. The Queen – former Queen – had disappeared, and he worried that she would find her way to his remaining stock, supposedly the last of the oyster tea in Wonderland, and use it to bribe, bargain, and manipulate her way back to power. He knew that she shouldn't be able to do so, that he was the only one with the key (unless March had told someone – don't even think about it, Hatter, March wouldn't have done that), but he still fretted. The Queen shouldn't have been able to change the very foundations of Wonderland, and yet she had done so – what was one little key in the face of such charisma?

He hated this. It was immensely frustrating to be dependent on the fringes of another's information instead of in the center of the web of gossip and intelligence that 'Landers depended upon to suss out the Queen's whims and temper. However, as long as he remained on this side of the Glass, living off of Jack's old accounts and in his old apartment, he would remain cut off from his home.

"Hatter!"

He heard Alice's shouted greeting and waved at her. She jogged up to him, out of breath and sweaty, and he wanted to kick himself for what he was about to do.

"Hey!" she said, giving him a quick kiss, grabbing the water he held out and taking a few sips.

"Hey," he said.

Her brow furrowed, and she gave him a careful look. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. No. Maybe."

"Is this about Dormouse's visit yesterday?" she asked as they started walking to the park entrance.

He stopped, and she stopped when she noticed that he was no long beside her. "Yes, yes it is," he said decisively.

"Okay." She grabbed his hand and they started walking again.

"I need to go back to Wonderland. I'm not abandoning you; I've pledged myself to you, and I won't break my troth. But Wonderland is my home, and they're my people. I need to see what's happening and, if I can, help."

"Dodo doesn't trust you, Caterpillar doesn't know you, and Jack doesn't like you," she pointed out.

"I'm cognizant of that. However, denizens of the City know me, like Dormouse and Eaglet and Lory. They might not trust me with their cunning plans, but they know that I am an honest wight and bring intelligence about the Hearts and Hares to discussions and planning sessions. I know how March thought and might be able to find survivors or memorial bones. Furthermore, the last tea in Wonderland is in the Tea Shop, and so it's in my bailiwick and is my responsibility."

She was silent for a few blocks, and he fretted.

"I'm coming back, I swear," he added. "The next scheduled trip from Wonderland is Sunday, and I'll travel with the refugees. But it's time."

"It's okay," she finally said, bumping his hip with hers. "You're being honest; I won't fault you for that. I'm not happy, I don't want you to go, but I'll live. We'll keep a schedule and visit. You will _tell me_ if _anything_ changes."

"I so swear," he said. They kept walking, and he was too relieved that she hadn't issued an ultimatum, which, given her past, he could have understood and would have found a way to live with, to pay attention to where they were wandering. He was surprised when they ended up at the Glass.

"You'll come back on Sunday?" she asked.

"May a jabberwock eat my heart if I don't."

"Okay. Go," she said.

"Are you sure?" he asked, surprised by her willingness to see him off so quickly.

"You've been building up to this ever since you moved here. You interrogate anyone who comes through who's willing to talk to you, you stare out the window for hours, and you very carefully haven't brought it up with me. Go, I'll take the time to chill out, and then we can see each other and figure out long-term logistics on Sunday."

"You," he said, "you've actually become a 'Lander who has amazing psychic powers that you need to stop using and stay out of my head. There's delicate bits in there!"

"Dirty bits, you mean," she said.

"Out of my head!" he protested, trying to cover up his relief with bravado. He felt certain she saw right through him.

"Thank you," he breathed.

They hugged, and she kissed him, deep and rich. She pulled back enough to smile at him, the smile her mother called the brave little toaster look. "I'll see you in a week," she said.

"Yes, you will," he replied. They rested their foreheads together for a final moment of communion, and then she let him go and stepped back.

He faced at the Looking Glass, took a deep breath, and stepped through.


End file.
